It’s not about the typo, it’s about the message.

Is it the killing you wish you could take back, or the joy of the killing?

My friends, a vicarious obsession with celebrities and a few dearly held political opinions is not a useful life of the imagination; that's the life of a beetle that just happens to have opposable thumbs and the ability to count to ten.

Quiet people have the loudest minds.

If there are ten thousand medieval peasants who create vampires by believing them real, there may be one–probably a child–who will imagine the stake necessary to kill it. But a stake is only stupid wood; the mind is the mallet which drives it home.

Your friends drag you down, Gordie. Don't you know that? [...] Your friends do. They're like drowning guys that are holding onto your legs. You can't save them. You can only drown with them.

Die steinerne Verstocktheit barst, darunter kam die Fratze eines bis zum Irrsinn wütenden Kindes zum Vorschein

Kill you all!" The clown was laughing and screaming. "Try to stop me and I'll kill you all! Drive you crazy and then kill you all! You can't stop me!

The final crushing failure. He had failed as a teacher, a writer, a husband and a father. He had even failed as a drunk.